


pwease yes steppy

by noahfronsenburg



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Begging, Cock & Ball Torture, Edging, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Painplay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Size Difference, dick stepping, no betas we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-10 20:46:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18415541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noahfronsenburg/pseuds/noahfronsenburg
Summary: “On your knees, Legatus.”





	pwease yes steppy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kibahshi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kibahshi/gifts).



> 23:44 @jonphaedrus if i title this  
> 23:44 @jonphaedrus pwease yes steppy  
> 23:45 @chuchisushi i will laugh but also just want to destroy you  
> 23:45 @chuchisushi i think @vanitaslaughing WILL destroy you on principle  
> 23:45 @jonphaedrus should i do it  
> 23:45 @chuchisushi yes.

Say what you will about Garlemald, but her soldiers know how to obey orders.

All Alphinaud has to say is “On your knees, Legatus,” and Gaius drops, without question, his pale eyes wide as he stares up at Alphinaud, their height difference inverted. He balls his hands up on his thighs, unmoving and patient, and the _stillness_ of him is almost unnatural, decades of standing at parade rest condensing his energy until he’s a tight-wound spring, waiting to be sprung. He doesn’t move. Barely even seems to breathe.

In this light, Gaius’ eyes are more silver than gold, and Alphinaud holds the other man’s gaze with his own as he undoes the knot of his tie painstakingly slowly, pulls it free from his throat. Gaius stares, unmoving, nearly unblinking, as Alphinaud sheds his jacket and then undoes the buttons at his collar, one by one, until he reaches the bottom of the hem and his shirt hangs open around his chest. He pulls both his gloves off, peels them free with his teeth, and watches as Gaius’ eyes dilate—the swallow in his long, bared throat.

Alphinaud unbuttons his cuffs, and when he shrugs out of his shirt, lets it slide down his arms, Gaius opens his mouth, panting shallowly. In the chill air of the safe house room they’re in, the hair on Alphinaud’s arms is already on-end even before he tugs his undershirt over his head, jerking his head to get his hair through the neck hole before he drops that, too, and the hair on his sternum and at the base of his stomach, too, goosepimples.

He won’t be cold soon.

Gaius is waiting, still, hands atop his thighs, and Alphinaud makes a considering noise as he tangles his fingers into the hair falling loose over the older man’s face, slides his hand back, and pulls Gaius’ head with it—gently, right now. Just gently. Gaius lets him, his breathing picking up, his eyes wide.

“For a dog,” Alphinaud begins, and twists his hair into the hair at the nape of Gaius’ neck, drags his head back the rest of the way until his breath catches, stills, in his throat, “You are _exceedingly_ poorly trained. You could have gotten us all killed today because you could not come to heel. Do you need a _leash_ , Wolf?”

“If thou wilt,” Gaius whispers, and his voice is so dry in his throat that it’s barely a whisper, grit at the bottom of a mug. Alphinaud takes a quick, deep breath at the rise it gets from him.

Alphinaud considers, turns Gaius’ head to the side to pull harder on his hair, nails scraping his scalp. “I believe old dogs can learn new tricks, and I was never fond of _caged animals_. What say you to a test, of sorts?”

Gaius nods, apparently not trusting his voice to speak. Alphinaud smiles.

“Good dog.”

Gaius shuts his eyes, breathes, shaky, and Alphinaud lets him gather his composure for a moment before he lifts his foot from the floor, between where Gaius is sat on his folded knees, thighs spread just enough for Alphinaud’s narrow foot to fit. Gently, _gently_ , he taps the toe of his boot to the tent that’s forming at the juncture of the other man’s thighs, a warning. The only one Gaius is going to get, because next he flattens the base of his foot over the weight of the other man’s half-hard erection and presses it against the base of his stomach and holds it there.

Holds it.

Holds it.

Gaius cracks after, by Alphinaud’s count, two minutes. Then, his body shuddering, he whimpers, “Please.”

Alphinaud tights the hand in his hair, twists, drags his head forward until Gaius is pressing his face into the side of Alphinaud’s hipbone, strands of hair tickling the bare skin above the waistband of his pants. Gaius makes a broken noise, turns his head to press his nose into the juncture of Alphinaud’s thigh, _whines_. “Please _what_ ,” Alphinaud prompts him, tugging on his hair. “Given how oft you barely hesitate before speaking your mind, I am certain you are capable.”

“Please,” Gaius whispers it into Alphinaud’s trousers, and he allows it, this _shame,_ to hide away, “Hurt me. Hurt my cock.”

Alphinaud smiles. “How eloquent you are, Sir. And do you think you should get to come, Sir?” Gaius shudders against him in anticipation. “Perhaps we shall see if you earn it. Release is all the more sweet for restraint, don’t you think?” Alphinaud scratches his nails over the hollow at the nape of Gaius’ neck as he speaks, over the base of his skull. Gaius nods, mutely, and that is good enough for now.

Alphinaud tilts his foot up, drags his toe down the length of Gaius’ erection, trapped uncomfortably in his smallclothes, hung partway down his right thigh, taps at the head once, and then goes back to the base, presses Gaius’ heavy balls up against the juncture of his thighs with the top of his foot. “We called you back four times, did we not?” Gaius nods—four times they had shouted at him to stop pursuing their retreating foes before he had laid down his arms—and Alphinaud digs his nails in.

“Then I think you can take four hits, don’t you?”

The sound of Gaius swallowing is audible in the quiet. Alphinaud has phrased it like a question, although it is hardly anything but—Gaius will take all four strikes, and he presses his face into Alphinaud’s hip, stills, tenses.

Alphinaud waits until his shoulders sag, until the tension, the _expectation_ has leeched back out of the other man, until he’s not ready, before he gives Gaius the first strike. It’s the perfect angle: the top of Alphinaud’s boot, sturdy leather above his foot, straight into the unprotected weight of Gaius’ balls, and Alphinaud does not pull his punch.

Against him, the other man jumps, his entire body tensing and curling down upon itself, but he doesn’t lift his hands from his thighs, just _gasps_ , shaking. The next strike Alphinaud aims slightly further back, so that the toe of his shoe just barely clips the small of Gaius’ taint and he grunts—a pained, ragged noise—and then hangs there, trembling with adrenaline. Alphinaud makes him wait. And wait. And wait.

And, just when Gaius thinks they’re _done_ , that he’s _made it_ , Alphinaud does it again, twice in a row, and gets a yelp of pain, muffled in his hip.

He’s not focused on his own pleasure, hardly thinking about it, but that sound, the way Gaius’ ragged voice cracks on it, makes his half-hard cock throb uncomfortably in his smallclothes. The fact that Alphinaud can bring Gaius van Baelsar to his knees, make him cry out and sob, is a heady power. Alphinaud smoothes the hair back from the other man’s forehead, cups the back of his neck. “So well done,” he says. “You never fail to impress, Legatus. I believe you have fain earned a reward—do you want to touch me, Sir?”

“Yes,” his voice cracks, and Alphinaud doesn’t stop Gaius from reaching for his hips, thumbs brushing the arcs of the bones just above the waistband of his trousers, from pressing a shaky, dry-mouthed kiss to the base of his stomach, over the sensitive skin there, breathing into the top of Alphinaud’s pubic hair. His grip is tight but not bruising, an anchor, and Gaius looks up at him with blown-wide, eyes, panting. “Thank you,” he adds, and Alphinaud desperately wants to kiss him.

Soon, soon.

He brushes the hair from Gaius’ face—his hairline is already damp with sweat—and gentles the strain on his brow. “Take your cock out for me,” Alphinaud tells him, and Gaius hastens to obey, fumbling with his flies until he pulls himself free, his erection hanging heavy, hard and standing proudly between his thighs.

Alphinaud _tsks_ as Gaius grasps for his hips again. He doesn’t like that cock looking so hopeful up at him, winking. He lifts his foot and presses the underside of the ball of his toe to the tip of Gaius’ erection, and he jumps, even knowing it was coming, and presses it down, down, down, until just the head of Gaius’ cock is flat under his foot.

He crushes it down into the floor. Just briefly. Just gently. Just enough.

Gaius sobs into the hollow of Alphinaud’s hip, and his shoulders tremble. “I haven’t done anything to you yet,” Alphinaud half-laughs it, pressing the older man’s cock into the base of his stomach and digging it in there, the tip of his toe at the weeping head and the back of his heel not quite at the base, even. “Would you look at that,” Alphinaud murmurs, forcing Gaius to look down by one unkind hand dragging his hair until he turns.

Gaius stares as Alphinaud grinds his heel into the base of his cock. He whines. “Look at your cock, Sir. My foot isn’t even as big as it is.” Gaius digs his nails into the small of Alphinaud’s back. Alphinaud returns it in kind, into the sensitive skin behind Gaius’ ear. “All that cock,” he continues, murmuring, rolling the head of the other man’s dick beneath the toe of his boot, wiping pre onto the cotton of his shirt, “And you don’t get to use it. Might not even get to come. Tell me, Sir, what do you want to do with that handsome cock of yours?” Alphinaud loves that cock. He could worship that cock, as if that wasn’t what he’s doing right now.

“Fuck you with it,” Gaius says at last, when he’s gotten his throat wet enough to talk. Alphinaud rewards him by pressing down on the head of his dick again. He trembles when Alphinaud does it a second time. “May I?” He asks, and Alphinaud laughs.

“May not _what_ , Sir?”

“May I come?”

“No,” Alphinaud says it again, but stops rolling the head of Gaius’ cock beneath the toe of his boot to give him a moment to regain his composure. Waits, until he nods, just slightly. “But keep asking like that and I may consider it.” He switches tactics, gently tapping the tip of the toe of his foot against the underside of the other man’s glans, just short of kicking it, tiny little bumps, to bounce his erection off his chest.

Every time, half the breath goes out of Gaius’ body.

Alphinaud cups his head to the base of his stomach again, brushes his thumb along the tense muscle of Gaius’ jawline. “So you want to fuck me with your cock. What else?”

“Want to get my hand in you,” Gaius says, his lids lowered over his pale eyes as he stares down at where Alphinaud is so gently, so slowly, torturing him. His voice quavers, just slightly, as he continues. “Slick you with all my fingers and tease your rim with my knuckles and hold you wide. I want to tuck my thumb in and slide my entire hand in you.”

“Is fucking me with a dick bigger than my foot not enough for you?” Gaius _wheezes_. “Look at it, Legatus. So big it’s almost ridiculous. And you want to put it in me and ruin my arse. Want to fuck my hole until the muscle gives way for your hand. I _did_ pick the right lesson to teach you,” Alphinaud lowers his voice, kicks _harder_. “A _proper_ pet should be taught how to do more than just _mount_.”

Gaius manages a hot, ragged, “Fuck—“ and half doubles over before Alphinaud jerks his foot back, no stimulation, the man’s cock just bobbing in the air with residual momentum and the spastic jerk of muscles too-close to coming, dripping pre from the tip. Now, dragged back from the edge twice in quick succession, Gaius trembles against him. It no longer feels like he’s holding onto Alphinaud out of affection, but to _stay upright_ , his whole body shaking as he pants for breath, half doubled-over.

“Oh, Sir, your training is impeccable.” Alphinaud tells him. “I could almost be forgiven for forgetting you’re a wolf, when you’re so much better as a dog.” He jerks hard on the hair atop Gaius’ head, forces the other man to look up at him, and his eyes are wide and glassy with arousal, his mouth open to pant, his lips bitten red. “I should have known a leash would only make you pull harder.” Alphinaud brushes his thumb over Gaius’ lower lip, presses it into his mouth, pushes down on his tongue. “I would hate to geld so majestic an animal, especially when he can be so _very_ well behaved.”

Gaius’ eyes are wide and wild, and he makes a broken, whimpering noise, a sob lodged deep in his smoke-ruined lungs, and Alphinaud smiles, pleased at the glisten of tears. “I can be trained,” he whispers, hoarse, his words slurred by Alphinaud’s thumb on his tongue.

“You already are, Sir. And so very, very well trained at that.” Gaius shudders at the praise, his eyes closing involuntarily. “I could hardly hope to find a more devoted pet.”

Again, Alphinaud presses Gaius’ cock into the floor. “No hiding this time,” Alphinaud tells him firmly. “You’re a good man, Legatus, and I’ve yet to find something more moving than the sight of a good man crying.”

He leans his weight onto Gaius’ erection. Just enough. Stops, pauses, lets him adjust. Gaius shakes, but he doesn’t look away, mouth open, painting. “Hurt me more,” he begs instead, scraping at Alphinaud’s hipbones. “Hurt me _more_.”

Alphinaud can hardly say no to that. He shifts his foot, the width of his heel against Gaius’ cockhead, and presses down. Gaius shakes andsinks down into himself, gasping, as Alphinaud leans into it, building up as high as he dares go to begin with before pulling back, doing it again, and again, and again.

Alphinaud loses count at the eighteenth time he eases back from crushing the other man’s cock, putting more strength into it every time, because that is when Gaius starts to cry, losing his composure. When Alphinaud swaps to trapping the head of his erection in the open hollow between the flat of his sole and the heel, leaning _all_ his weight down onto it, crushing the width of his dick into that tiny space, Gaius breaks down sobbing, his whole body shaking with adrenaline, rocking back and forth as if to escape the pain or the pleasure or both. They are ugly, ragged cries, catching in his throat, tears staining his eyelashes, making them longer, thicker. It’s beautiful.

 _Gaius_ is beautiful.

“You’re so perfect,” Alphinaud keeps telling him. “So brave and strong. You can take anything, my Legatus, my Wolf. Suffering for me and loving it.” He rolls Gaius’ cock back and forth beneath the sole of his foot, crushing it until Gaius’ voice is cracking and shredding on every wracking cry that wrings out of the depth of his chest, scratching Alphinaud’s hips until there are raw weals bleeding beneath his nails. “Nothing can hurt this proud Legatus,” Alphinaud murmured to him, soothing the pain with a gentle hand against the back of Gaius’ neck, an anchor, a reminder.

When Alphinaud does relent and lift his foot, Gaius is a wreck of a man, a broken, shuddering heap, wheezing for breath. His eyelashes are thick with tears, his face flushed.

When Alphinaud coaxes Gaius to look up his eyes are almost black with how wide his pupils are. He stares up at Alphinaud with a look of absolute devotion, and the _trust_ in that is staggering.

“I think,” he murmurs, “You’ve earned it.”

Gaius doubles over, and the whimpered “ _Gratias tibi ago_ ,” is a cracked, ragged thing as he comes untouched, sobbing into the base of Alphinaud’s stomach. The moment he’s done, Alphinaud drops to his knees, wraps the other man in his arms and lets Gaius collapse into him, fingers clutching at his back and face buried in the hollow of his shoulder, tears and sweat slick on his skin. He’s shaking, trembling, and curls more into Alphinaud—Alphinaud takes his weight, and murmurs things that mean nothing and lets Gaius wrap around him.

“I’m perfectly unharmed,” he whispers, presses is like a litany into the slope of Gaius’ strong neck. “Not a hair out of place.”

Gaius takes his face in his hands and kisses him, and Alphinaud returns it, just as desperate. After they break, when Gaius holds him there and looks at him, searching, he stays still until the other man bows his head, lets out a shaking breath. The weight has cleared his shoulders, but he still looks ragged and worn, and Alphinaud tucks a loose strand of hair back behind one of his ears as he pants.

“I should _know better_ ,” Gaius snaps, his hands warm on Alphinaud’s elbows. He doesn’t stop Alphinaud from cleaning him up, gently tucking his soft cock back away, and leans in his arms, heavy and boneless and exhausted. Alphinaud just holds him, strokes the sweaty hair back from his face. “You never came,” Gaius mutters, at some point when Alphinaud has gotten comfortable, legs thrown over his lap. He wants to go to bed but is loathe to move.

“You know that’s not the point,” Alphinaud reminds him, gently, and feels the other man smile into the side of his shoulder. “I would much prefer you get off my shoulder so I can put a shirt on.”

“No.”

“ _Honestly._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> is this good? no. am i happy with it? no. is it done? yes. am i horny? _yes._
> 
> you can buy a jon at wherever books are sold or order one online at noahfronsenburg.carrd.co


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